February is all about love. We often celebrate loving a significant other, loving our friends, even loving ourselves. The one thing we never celebrate? Our exes. So, this day after Valentine’s Day, I would like to list my top five dating disasters and how they, thankfully, shaped my love life.
WARNING: The following is written with extreme sarcasm, but in good humor.
# 5: Thank you "Still Lives At Home with Mom" for embarrassing me at my 30th birthday. When the check came all of my friends paid for me... and I paid for you... because you didn't have any cash. You then also left early to get ready for your brother's birthday in Vegas, clearly the more important option. You taught me that if someone doesn't have time for me, then I don't have time for them.
#4: Thank you "Can't Hold My Liquor" for all those 3am phone calls to pick you up when you couldn't find your car. I especially loved when you wet the bed with me in it. You taught me that never wanting to grow up is not fun and exciting, but rather exhausting and damp.
I've never done a daily prompt before, but while browsing my Word Press reader to gain inspiration from all the other fun, witty blogs I follow, I saw this word, LECTURE, in the Daily Prompt and HAD to respond. Because, lately, I've been lecturing myself mercilessly.
Not long ago (the day before Thanksgiving to be exact) I was laid off from my job. I went through a whole range of emotions but ultimately decided this was a GREAT thing. I could do all the things I didn't have time for before. I could make all my dreams come true. Immediately. The sky was the limit.
Except for the fact that two months later, I'm not sure I'm any closer to my dream job, and daily errands are getting in the way of my much coveted writing jobs and acting business plan. And I am stressing. HARD. It's like I'm a kid in a candy shop. But instead of eating too much candy and getting sick, I look at my open schedule and end up banging my head against the wall. I SHOULD be able to blog and promote EVERY day. I SHOULD be able to get all my marketing materials out by now. I SHOULD be starring alongside Andrew Garfield in his next movie like YESTERDAY. All while working out 8 times a week and learning Mandarin. WHAT AM I DOING WITH MY LIFE??? Soon I end up in a cleaning binge (because if I can't control my career maybe I can control the mold in my shower) and end up looking like a crazed Julie Andrews.
When I ask you how you feel about hugs, what do you say?
“Omg I LOVE hugs!”
Lies. People don’t love hugs. I mean we DO hugs. Obviously I hug my mom and Dad goodbye or I’ll hug a friend I haven’t seen in awhile. But these last about 1.5 seconds. And I NEVER hug the random guy I meet at a job interview. Or at Subway ordering a foot long. I’m not trying to get abducted. Or worse, have him smell my after gym B.O.
So I was blown away when I attended National Hugging Day at Agape International Spiritual Center yesterday, and was told that in order to feel the full effect of a hug it must last for over TWENTY SECONDS. It’s hard for me to wait the twenty seconds I put my coffee into the microwave after pouring too much almond milk in it. You want me to hug a stranger for 21 seconds?!?
This post is different today! I was reading a couple blogs by my peers (See. I do know that on the path of enlightenment EVERYTHING can't just be about me.) and I stumbled on a page by louisablog that was not only well written and informative, but also contained a prayer that resonated so deeply with me that I had to share. (Especially since just yesterday I was exploring how to restructure prayer!)
I hope this prayer awakens your own self love (cellulite thighs included) and inspires you to share that love today. And so it is!
SELF LOVE PRAYER
I’ll tell you why I HATE New Year’s resolutions. I never complete them. Not even a little bit. Statistically no one does. OK I didn’t actually look up any facts about this but come on, unless your resolution was brush your teeth every day, most people conveniently forget about their resolutions after the first 30 days. Or 5. And then that failure leaves me frustrated and ringing in another New Year crying while listening to Ed Sheeran and singing to my cat. Just kidding. I was crying because his love songs are so beautiful. And I didn’t sing to my cat. I danced with him.
I told myself all the normal things. He was 89, he had a great life. He’s in a better place. He’s finally going to get to play Blackjack all day long with no one pestering him to come to dinner. (He was honestly the luckiest player I had ever seen, so in Heaven he must be raking it in. And do you eat dinner in Heaven? I hope so because I’m a foodie.)
An author named Brad Warner wrote a book called It Came From Beyond Zen! The book cover is complete with cool Sci-Fi lettering and a Buddhist monk entangled by a green slimy monster with 7 eyes. The blurb about his book mentioned he uses humor to put classic Buddhist teaching into modern language. He also used to be in a punk rock band and wrote another book called Don't Be a Jerk. My kind of guy. I was sold. I mean clearly our life purposes are the same. Except for the part where he's an ordained Buddhist Zen monk and I'm a waitress. And the part he was in a punk rock band and I still struggle to get from a G chord to a C chord on my guitar. And he knows who Dogen was and I had no idea. OK. Enough. We both don't take meditation so seriously we wear Mala prayer beads to breakfast and drink boba tea while dissecting our own auras. Good enough for me.